The Red Thread of Fate
by youwin-youlive
Summary: "An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break." (KyoyaxOC)
1. Chapter 1

**_Thing of the Past_**

**_Description: Kyoya Ohtori and Sora Nakamura were friends. Once. But Kyoya did something that left Sora broken. Now that they've been reunited, they just can't keep apart, much to Sora's dismay. KyoyaxOC... Mild (to me) cussing._**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran High School Host Club. If I did, well… it wouldn't be shojo. This is the only shojo I like. So yeah. Well. Read on, Reader._**

"Nakamura-chan!"

Nakamura Sora threw open the door, tying her hair up into a loose ponytail. "Yes?"

"The Ohtoris are here for dinner."

She began choking and the maid had to clap her on her back. "The Ohtoris?" The maid nodded. Shoving a lump of folded fabric into the girl's hands, she bowed and scurried off. "Huh… the Ohtoris. Haven't seen them for years." Ritsuki closed the door behind her.

Hesitantly, she unfolded the cloth. A sleek dress—a tad shorter than knee length—unfurled, the blue fabric shimmering in the dim light emanating from the ceiling. A silver twinkling belt cinched it at the waist. As she ran her fingers over the short, slightly ruffled sleeves, she sighed.

"I hate dresses," she murmured to herself as she shook out her midnight black hair, streaked with one blue highlight. Being the daughter of a huge company owner, she often had to attend dinners and balls, consequently having wardrobes of dresses that she banished to the corner of her room.

She slipped into the dress, the silken materials brushing her thighs like liquid fabric.

Quickly descending the stairs, she popped in her contacts, knowing that later they'd probably shift out of place. Right as she rounded the corner, she crashed into a tall figure.

"Nakamura-chan?"

"Ohtori-kun?"

"I thought we were way past those honorifics," Kyoya held out his hand. Sora shook it. It felt familiar, but yet foreign, in her hand. "Sora."

"K-Kyoya." She smiled coolly. The last Kyoya and her had parted, it wasn't on good terms. In her case, mostly. Did he remember that pained look she'd given him as he left her?

Kyoya still wore that slight smirk of a grin as he examined Sora. _Apparently not,_ she thought to herself.

Suddenly a faint pain pierced her eye and her hand shot up to her face. "Stupid contacts! I knew I never should have switched to these."

"Sora—"

"Excuse me." She turned to fix the annoying things before a hand clasped her arm and she whipped around, her hair lashing her face.

"You look beautiful."

Before he could see the heat rising in her cheeks, Sora mumbled, "Thanks," and ran upstairs.

Seeing as she was halfway to blindness, her vision was so bad; she decided to still use the contacts. Maybe at school she'd use glasses. Eventually, she adjusted them and dropped two eye drops in each of her eyes. "Maybe I'll get laser eye surgery."

When Sora returned to the table, she was glad that they weren't waiting for long. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips when she saw the only open seat was next to Kyoya. She slid into the place, and her twin siblings—one boy, Kaito, one girl, Kaori—hopped up and down in their chairs.

Dinner wasn't very eventful. Just the quiet tinkering of china against glass, the adults conversing, and the twins chattering.

Tinkering with my utensils, Sora clicked a soft beat on the table with my other hand as I hummed a piano piece I'd been teaching myself.

"Is that _The River Flows in You_?" Kyoya didn't glance up as he murmured the question, and promptly sipped his water.

"Yes. I'm not surprised you know. You know everything. Oh wait, that's right. You _don't_."

There was a sharp _clatter_ as he slammed down his glass, but not enough that anybody would pay any mind to the teenagers.

"Excuse me." She pushed back my chair and escaped upstairs.

In the confines of her room, she nudged the door open to her adjoining bathroom. "The adults don't care. 'Just forget your past.' That's what they always say. They never knew the whole story." She paused. "I should apologize." A scowl replaced her contemplative look. "Maybe later." She stripped of her clothes and stepped into the shower. Her nimble fingers pulled on the handle, adjusting it for the appropriate warmth. She jumped when the burst of frigid arctic water came spewing through the showerhead.

* * *

Kyoya sighed. Were girls always this temperamental? He didn't remember Sora like this. Maybe it was hormones.

He too excused himself, and as he draped his napkin over his chair and crept up the stairs, he was already planning how to confront Sora. A normal apology would suit her. Maybe. This _was_ Sora they were talking about.

* * *

The tendrils of water flowed through the cracks of Sora's body like a river to wash away all troubles, sweeping them down the drain. She quietly hummed to herself as the sweet tinge of Japanese cherry blossom filled the air.

Done with the shower now, Sora turned off the water. Wrapping the engulfing folds of her robes around her, she rubbed her hair and body dry, finally combing the damp strands of her hair. Letting only the hood hang off of her head she changed into her undergarments and escaped into her room.

The cold air sent prickling goose bumps across her skin and she silently wondered whether to change into her pajamas or regular day clothes. Her hands rifled through the black hole of her closet, and she froze when she heard the rustle of paper behind her. Without moving, she said, "Oh, hey Kyoya. What are you doing in my room? When I'm fucking naked?"

"At least you have _something_ on. You're lucky I didn't look up any earlier." She heard the gentle _thud_ of a book being set down. "The original Sherlock Holmes. Good choice. Better than those wimpy fairytales you liked when you were younger."

"I didn't _like_ them, they're all I knew. It's all that was read to me until I started buying my own books. You know I hated the sappy stuff."

"How could I forget?" A cold finger traced along her bare, slightly damp shoulder, raising goose bumps and sending a collective shiver through her spine.

"I'm surprised you didn't."

Strong hands spun the ebony-haired girl around, and her eyes locked on Kyoya's as he gripped her shoulders. But she tore her gaze away and turned limp in his arms, scowling.

"Never mind. Forget it," she stammered. "It's as moment of the past. Let's just forget it and move on. Start anew. I'll try to not be made anymo—"

One of his arms slithered behind her body, and Kyoya bent slightly, to gently brush his lips against hers, tangling his slender fingers between strands of her hair.

In that small thread of time, Sora's heart leapt in her chest and her stomach fluttered. Whether in excitement or distress, she didn't know. She didn't kiss back, nor did she completely reject him. But when she was released and stumbled backwards, she tilted her head to look at the ground, and her face felt like it was a thousand degrees. But she liked the kiss. Sort of.

Not that she'd admit it.

Kyoya wrapped the robe tighter around her slender, exposed body. "I'm sorry. I never should have abandoned you when we were little. Maybe it's just because you made me nervous. But like you said. It's a thing of the past and we should forget it." He tipped her chin upwards; kissing her softly once more, and then sat the girl down on her bed. "You look like you're going to faint. Lay down for a moment. And put some clothes on. Not that I don't mind." He strode out of the room.

Sora flipped over onto her side, curling into a small ball. "Arrogant, cocky bastard!" she snapped.


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: Just so you guys know, I did **_**not**_** get Kyoya's last name wrong. "Ohtori" is a variant spelling. It can also be "Otori" or "Ootori," like Kyoya can be spelled "Kyoya" or "Kyouya." My favorite is "Ootori," but I thought most people spelled it "Ohtori," so I used that way. Seems like I was wrong, so I'll be spelling it my way. If it changes, then deal with it. I do what I want.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran .-. Oh, and by the way, I usually base a character off me in at least some way, and Sora is based off of my physical appearance (mostly), ambitions, etc.**_

Sora laughed out loud at the uniform. "They better now expect me to wear this." She turned to her closet and dug out one of her old school uniforms. The yellow and blue plaid skirt fell halfway down her thighs was cinched by a white belt. A yellow necktie adjourned the white shirt, and the cuffs of the long sleeves were blue. It wasn't her choice of a color scheme, but it's what she had. It was better than that horrendous puffy yellow dress.

"Close enough," she muttered to herself. "At least it has _some_ yellow." Slipping it on, she grabbed her bag, put on her glasses and ran downstairs.

"Sora-sama!" The head maid—Aiko—scolded the girl. "That's not your proper uniform!"

Sora snagged a chocolate chip croissant and yelled, "Can't hear you, sorry!" and bolted for the limo, gasped a breath of fresh air, and locked the door. "Drive," she ordered before Aiko could reach her.

New school. Ouran High. Sora had gone to Ouran Elementary _**(AN: I don't know what they call it in Japan, so I'm just calling it what it's called in the US)**_, but moved away.

_2__nd__ year… I wonder if I could top the current 1__st__ student. That would, but at the same time wouldn't, earn me a good reputation, _she thought to herself. It depended on who it was. Leaning back against the leather seats, she smirked. She was going to be 1st, or at least 2nd, no matter what.

The limo skidded to a stop and Sora thanked the driver. Flicking the unlock key with her finger, she opened the door herself before the chauffeur could beat her to it and walked out, slamming it behind her.

Fountains dotted the premises, statues of stone baby angels spewing water, which collided with the sunlight and sent splattered rainbows on the ground. Sora darted into the school, not in the mood to want to draw attention to her.

As she sketched herself a mental map of the interior of the huge buildings, she ventured through the vast, stretching corridors. Her deep mahogany eyes flickered upwards, reading the signs displaying the classrooms.

It seemed like Sora was attracted to crashing into people, because when she wound around the corner, she collided into somebody.

Again.

Okay, not somebody.

Kyoya fucking Ootori.

The first words that escaped her lips were, "Arrogant, cocky bastard," as she ducked her head, scowling. Unfortunately for her, she'd encountered him at an open corridor where there was an open wall, the ceiling held up by pillars. The open air and sunlight spilled inside, lighting up the corridor.

A wry look replaced his look of confusion. "So is that the last thought I left in your mind?" His voice caused the butterflies in her stomach to explode in a flurry, and her heart flitted around like a child high on sugar. _Damn this boy._ She was not supposed to feel that way.

"Uh…" _No! He will not leave me speechless._ Sora opened her mouth to snap back, but was still at a loss for words.

His fingers brushed her heated cheek and he said, "Will this change your mind?" His lips met hers and Sora felt her heart flutter feebly, like she would faint.

Honestly, she wanted to kiss him back, but she wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Kyoya pulled away. "Sorry. Starting anew. Hello, Sora. Weird seeing you here, isn't it?"

Biting her pink lips, Sora nodded. "Yeah. Weird."

Before they departed, she added, "Maybe it did." Then she ran down the hallway.

Collapsing against the wall, she tried to calm her racing heart as she covered her burning face with her hand. "Damn it, Kyoya! Damn you! You desert me when I've been bullied as a child, and you just suddenly kiss me out of nowhere? In the most awkward situations in the world?"

As she caught her breath, she muttered to herself, "Arrogant, cocky bastard." She hoped all traces of her blush was gone as she entered the classroom.

Reaching for her bag for her notebook the hour before school ended, Sora noticed a glossy card stuck to the bottom.

Waiting until the teacher turned back to the board, she flipped it over and read the pink card, which was dusted with glitter that fell onto her paper and over her hand. "Ouran High School Host Club, Music Room #3—"

A girl with the tips of her blonde hair dyed pink leaned forward from behind her. "You should really come," she told Sora. She had an accent and her Japanese was choppy. "It's great. The guys there are _so_ hot."

"I don't really care about that stuff."

"Wanna know who's in the club?"

"Not especially."

"Well the first years are Fujioka Haruhi, the new honor student, and the Hitachiin twins, Hikaru and Kaoru." She grinned when she said their names, and continued, "Second years are Ootori Kyoya and Suoh Tamaki; they're in our class, they sit over there. Third years are cute little Mitsukuni Haninozuka—Honey—and Morinozuka Takashi."

"H—hold up. Did you say Ootori and Suoh?" Sora obviously knew Kyoya, and she'd heard the name Suoh come up at dinner more than once.

"Yep! Tamaki-kun is the most popular. Kyoya's more of a manager, he doesn't actually host. But he has closet fans!" She giggled. "I like someone else though." Holding out her hand, she said, "I'm Amber Thompson. I'm, if you haven't noticed, from America. Nice to meet you!"

"My name is Nakamura Sora. You too. And by the way, I love America."

"You do?"

"Japan is hands-down, _the_ best, but America's great too. Better than China, at least." _**(AN: No offense. I'm half-Chinese, half-Vietnamese that lives in the USA… though I'm not a huge fan of China either.)**_

__She shrugged. "I thought foreigners hated Americans." _**(AN: Pfft, I didn't get this concept from 9gag.)**_

__"Why?"

"Well some people think we're rude, dumb, whatever you wanna say."

"But you don't strike me as that."

"I'm glad."

Laughing, Sora added, "Plus, who doesn't love foreign accents?"

"Nobody." She turned to the front of the classroom before the teacher could catch them talking.

After class, Amber caught up with Sora. "So are you visiting the host club?"

Shrugging, she glanced at the card again. "I don't even know how I got this…but I guess so. I'll give it a shot; see if it's worth my time. You don't have to sign up, right?"

"Just come. There are usually regulars, but there are some newbies too. And they have refreshments."

Sora laughed. "Free food? Then I _have_ to come." Amber giggled and led the way.

"The more I think about it, the more stupid it seems," the Japanese girl grumbled, flipping her hair out of her eyes. "A host club? Those are just idiotic! It's just guys flirting with girls who will never get them. And aren't host clubs these things they did when our parents were kids?"

Amber chuckled and her blonde and pink hair bounced around her face as she skipped next to Sora. "This one is awesome. They do a lot of cosplay… and this may sound weird, but actually, my favorite act is this thing the twins do. They're pretty popular, but they're nice people too."

Sora wrinkled her nose. "Is it twincest? I've never been one for that, nor yaoi. Though in real life, I respect those people. They're just awesome."

"It's an act! They do love each other, but they're not homosexual. For each other."

When the two arrived at Music Room #3, Amber whispered, "We're late by the way. Normally it starts…" She checked the diamond-bedazzled watch on her wrist. "10 minutes ago."

Rose petals greeted them, fluttering around the girls and too the ground. Sora plucked one out of the air, running her finger over the silken surface. It was real.

Her eyes roamed over the scene, carefully observing silently. The bright, open, happy atmosphere could easily push her off the edge on a bad day. The sort of place irritated her. Too cheery, too happy, and too pink.

"Who do you want to visit first?" Amber's auburn eyes looked to Sora.

"Uh…" Mainly she was searching for Kyoya, to avoid him.

"Let's go to Tamaki. Since he's the 'King.'"

"Fine, Suoh." The Nakamura's company did occasionally cross paths with the Suohs, but Sora was already out of the area by the time Tamaki moved to Japan, so they'd never met each other in person before.

Amber pulled the thoughtful girl into a seat and she plopped down, bouncing on a sofa.

Suddenly, a hand grasped her face and pulled it closer to his own.

"What's this? A new princess?" Some of the girls squealed eardrum-shattering squeals, and others looked on with daggers of jealousy shooting from their eyes.

"Just trying it out. Not that you're my type. Suoh, is it? I'll keep that in mind. Not that I'd visit you again." She flashed him a wide faux smile, and pulled herself out of his frozen grasp. Tamaki immediately fled into his emo corner. "Now that was funnier than I expected." She turned to her newly found friend. "Honestly, Amber, this just isn't my thing."

Amber tore her gaze away from Tamaki. "Maybe not him. Maybe—"

"Sora?"

Said girl spun around to face the ebony haired boy. "Kyoy—"

"SORA-CHAAAN!" A small two-foot form barreled her over, and a pink object was shoved in her face.

"Honey-senpai!" _**(AN: I know Honey is actually 4'10"/4'11", but he shrinks when he jumps to hug people. I don't know why, it's just Honey. Don't question Honey.)**_

__"Hiya, Sora-chan! Want some cake? Wanna hold Usa-chan?"

Sora rested on her elbows, and blew her hair out of her face with one sharp breath. She answered, "I'll pass on those. What happened to karate?"

"Oh," he explained, "I quit for the Host Club. I still practice, though." The blond Lolita boy grinned happily, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the light as his cute little boyish face sent "Awww's" through the girls. "Do you? Do you still take aikido or capoeira?"

Sora shook her head. "I do practice though. Not as much, I can't practice with my siblings, and I haven't recently gotten into a struggle with some random pedophile in a dark alleyway lately, and I don't have any other good sparring partners."

"You can spar with me!" he chirped.

"You know I never felt comfortable doing that…" Honey was extremely skilled in martial arts, yes, but his small form made him look fragile… but other people felt uncomfortable practicing with Sora too, since she was small and lean as well. Not small enough to the point that she was considered a dwarf, but still small.

"Then Takashi!" His small little pointer finger snapped everyone's attention to Morinozuka Takashi.

"No thanks. He's pretty good as well, and could probably overpower me with a flip of his wrist." Honey pouted, and another object intervened between the two conversing former sensei and student.

"Honey-senpai," Kyoya cajoled, flourishing a strawberry cake drizzled in edible glitter on a polished china plate, "would you like some cake?'

"Oh, yes, please!" Mori lifted Honey onto his shoulders as the tiny boy grasped the desert, and began to eat blissfully. A small crowd followed them around the room.

Standing up, Sora dusted herself off meaninglessly. "Thank you… that boy has gotten stronger."

Kyoya snorted. "He's almost a year older than you."

"And he's almost a foot shorter than me." She gestured to where he came up on her height.

Without looking up from his notebook, he commented, "So I see you got my card."

_"You_ gave me that card? When?" Sora blinked in disbelief.

"It was easy," he mused, "you're easily caught off guard, and when you are you sort of daze off."

Amber scurried up to them, and tucked a lock of her light hair behind her ear. "Hello, Kyoya! Hey, Sora!" She paused. "Do you two know each other?"

Both nodded. Sora explained, "I know Kyoya, Honey-senpai, Mori-senpai, and my family has crossed paths with both the Suohs and Hitachiins. The only person I don't recognize is her." Sora pointed to one host.

"Him, you mean?" Kyoya forced an exaggerated smile. "Fujioka Haruhi, the first year honor student. _He's_ a natural."

"He? That's a gi—" A hand slapped over her mouth and Sora's eyes widened in surprise.

"No, you must be mistaken, or looking at somebody else. Haruhi is _clearly_ a male." Amber examined them for a second, and then walked off.

"I'll see you later, Sora." Kyoya released the girl.

"You too." She turned and punched Kyoya's arm.

A sharp elbow slammed into Sora's ribs, and she doubled over. "That was uncalled for," she choked out.

"How do you know Haruhi's a girl?" he hissed through his teeth, rubbing his sore arm.

"It's pretty obvious, is it not?" She listed the facts that led her to know Haruhi was female. "She looks, acts, and sounds like a girl. How did you guys mistake her for a guy?"

"I always knew she was female, but it took the other hosts some time to figure it out. Honey-senpai's discovery was fairly early, while Tamaki had to wait until he accidentally stumbled in on Haruhi while she was changing." He grinned wryly. His pen skittered across the page of his notebook. "Is the only reason you're here to cause a disturbance?"

"A _disturbance_? Please. I'm the most entertaining thing here."

"The guests seem to think otherwise."

Rolling her eyes, Sora pulled her PSP out of her bag and flicked the on switch with her finger.

"Do you carry that around with you everywhere?"

"This one, yes. I have a Vita at home. And a PS3. And an Xbox."

"You always did love playing games. I remember when we were younger, you were always playing on a Super Nintendo or SNES when my family came over." Sora grinned. "And just to make you happy, I'd have to play too."

"I still have those."

"I bet I could still beat you at Super Mario."

Sora sneered at him. "Yeah, right! You suck at games!"

"I know a lot of cheats."

"As do I."

He rolled his eyes. "You refused to use them."

"Not anymore! Now, I actually will _try_ to win."

He snapped the folder shut, twirling the pen between his fingers. "So you were letting me win?"

"Of course I was. I don't lose, Kyoya. Not unless it's on purpose." She lowered the device and her character stopped moving as she let go. "Why?" Her lips barely moved as she murmured quietly, "Why did you do that?"

He smirked and still watched the dimming screen over her shoulder. She tried to ignore the fact that he was so close that his arm and leg were brushing her own. Tilting her head back so it rested on the wall behind them, she said, "Well?"

"Why would I do what?" he reopened the notebook and his pen hopped, skidded and jumped on the page.

"You know what I'm talking about!" she retorted.

"I guess you could say you were my first long-term childhood crush." Sora was taken aback and shocked into silence. It was strange enough that he'd liked her, but it was even weirder that he was admitting it. "Last night I planned to simply apologize for the years before, but… well I changed my mind."

Getting over the initial surprise, she requested, "Couldn't you have waited until _after_ I had changed?!"

"Now what fun is that? Besides, I bet no other boy's seen you like that."

"K—Kyoya! I never thought you could be so perverted!" She slapped him with her PSP in the place where she had previously punched him and he grimaced.

"I was kidding around."

"Never knew you could," she said sarcastically.

"Ha ha ha, very funny."

Heaving herself away from the wall, she said her goodbyes as she noticed Amber leaving. "Goodbye." She caught up to the blonde and she dragged Sora out into an empty classroom.

"I thought you didn't like host clubs."

"I don't."

"You seemed like you were having fun," Amber leaned against a desk and twisted a strand of dip dyed hair in her fingers.

"Just chatting with a childhood friend."

"Uh huh…. 'Chatting,'" she emphasized the air quotes, "with a 'friend.' Maybe more like 'flirting' with a 'boyfriend'?"

Sora starting laughing, disguising her embarrassment. "Kyoya, my boyfriend? You're joking."

"I saw the look on both of your faces. I know this sort of thing, Sora."

"You barely know me, Amber. I know how I feel. And until yesterday, my feelings toward him were mostly hostile."

"But that changed? In one day? Ooh, what happened?"

"Nothing important, I swear."

Amber giggled. "Okay. But if you two end up together, you owe me the equivalent in yen to $100. No, $1,000."

"About 90,000 yen." She nodded, holding out her hand expectantly, waiting to seal the deal. "That's a bit steep, don't you think?"

"You're rich, aren't you? This won't make much of a difference. Besides, if you don't start dating, then you owe me nothing and you'll be 90,000 yen richer. If you truly believe you won't."

Sora grinned, and shook Amber's hand. "Deal. But you're making a mistake."

"We'll see about that."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3.**_

"Ready for the test?" Amber approached Sora in the morning moments before the bell rang.

"Test? What test?" She shut her book and hopped off of the rock she'd been resting on, shoving the book into her bag. "I was never informed of any tests!"

"Yeah! It's on Chapter 9, math."

"Chapter 9? Oh, I had that test a week ago at my old school. Guess I'm caught up." Relief flowed through her veins as she hefted her bag onto her shoulder. "I'll just read during it, then."

"How often do you read, for god's sake? Whenever I look at you, you're reading!" Amber shook her head. "How do you get anything done?"

"I dunno." She shrugged. "I don't have much of a social life." She laughed, but immediately stopped. Half of the reason she didn't go out much was because she didn't have very many friends from her old school. She was one of those secluded people that isolated themselves from everybody.

Whether they wanted to or not.

"Well with me, that'll all change, I'll tell you that." Amber grinned.

Sora smiled wearily. "I don't know whether to be happy or upset."

"Happy, definitely, _definitely_ happy." Amber slung her arm through Sora's, dragging her off to class. Sora rolled her eyes, letting the other girl haul her away.

At the end of the day, Sora seemed especially bubbly to Amber. "Are you okay?"

She nodded vigorously. "I've just got inspiration for my latest drawing. Come on, I wanna get to the Host Club!" For once, she was the one to lead Amber to Music Room 3, and now Amber was holding her back.

"It's just strange to see you so animated."

Sora rolled her eyes. "I'm not _dull_." She opened the door and Amber followed, and each took their usual spots.

Ever since her first day at Ouran, Amber had been hauling Sora away to the third Music Room. Amber always resumed her usual club activities, while Sora had claimed a windowsill near the corner as her own, and usually read, or did whatever she felt at the moment, occasionally chatting with a host with they were taking a break (so usually just Kyoya, since he didn't even host half the time, but usually the girls were so obsessed with him and the other hosts that she didn't even get to say hello).

She sunk down onto the plush seat, digging around in her bag and her sketchbook emerged in her hands. Grabbing a pencil, she opened it to the first clean page and began a light, delicate sketch.

As she reached the halfway point—the point at which she always delegated time for a break—she set the book brimming full of clothing designs, sketches and drawings onto her legs. When she brought her eyes up to relieve them of the stress of staring at a page for quarter of an hour straight, she felt a weight being lifted off her legs.

Glancing up, she saw Kyoya flipping through, his own notebook tucked under his arm. "You've gotten better."

"Give it back, now. Or I'll—"

He placed his finger upon her lips. "Shh. That would disturb the customers, now wouldn't it?" Sora's cheeks colored slightly as she swatted his hand away, blinking several times quickly.

"Please, may I have my sketchbook back?"

Kyoya displayed a drawing of an outfit she'd designed. "Did you design this yourself?"

"Well, yes—"

"Hm." He resumed inspecting her drawings. Knowing she wouldn't get her book back, she leaned against the wall, twiddling her thumbs. "Maybe you should design for the Host Club…?" He trailed off, letting the offer hang.

"Design?"

"Yes, I'm sure you're familiar with the term? If not, I suggest you return to kindergarten."

Scowling, she snapped, "I'm very familiar with the term! What I meant is, couldn't you have a professional do it? Or Hikaru and Kaoru, maybe one of their relatives?"

"Of course, but they're already busy with their host duties, and we wouldn't want to burden their mother or grandmother. Whereas you're completely free."

"Free? Have you seen the mountain of homework we have?"

He examined her area. "I don't see any sign of homework or your studies. And not even once have I seen you studying in here." She cocked an eyebrow. "I have to take note of everybody in here. Unfortunately, I can't charge you because—"

"Shush!" she waved her hands in front of his face. "I'm not in the mood to hear your money-making schemes." Standing, she stretched her legs and walked for a few strides before pivoting back to face him. "I need to know a few things, however, before I accept the position."

"And what would that be?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, "One. How many hours per week? How many days? Two. Do I get paid? Three. Will I have to make the outfits myself, or will you hire a tailor? Along with that—"

He pressed his finger against her lips again, secretly enjoying the feel of her smooth skin against his fingertip as her cheeks heated up. "One. Preferably the duration of hosting hours Monday through Friday, and whenever the Host Club has a meeting—you'll be considered an official member, even if you're not a host. Two. No. Three. We'll hire a tailor, unless you wish to create the outfits yourself. I'll arrange any other details with you at a different time." This was clearly the closing to their conversation, but neither of them moved, except for the minute movement of Kyoya's thumb against her bottom lip, and each were focused on each other's gaze. Suddenly, Tamaki's voice yelped across the room and the two broke away in union without another word, going their opposite directions: Kyoya to the self-proclaimed king, Sora to the windowsill she'd silently proclaimed as her own.

As she slid onto the soft cushion, she took this opportune moment while the whole room's attention was diverted towards Tamaki, and buried her face in her hands as she felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Across the room, Kyoya seemed even more indifferent than usual as Tamaki flocked to a dark corner of the room, hurt as Haruhi obliviously insulted him. The towhead consequently ran to cower behind "Mommy," who was throwing glances at a quiet corner of the room with only one occupant, as Nekozawa Umehito poked his head through two large mahogany doors, uttering Latin darkly as he displayed Belzenef propped on his hand. After a moment of waving the cat puppet around he slunk back into the shadows and the light returned to the room in that corner.

Even though her ride arrived at the closing of the Host Club hours, Sora decided to walk home early, and decided that it was okay that the driver worry later when she turned up missing.

She had been reading Fellowship of the Ring—in English, to improve her fluency in that language—when a sleek limo pulled up and began to cruise beside her. For a moment she panicked, but then the darkly tinted window rolled down and she recognized Kyoya.

"You're walking home?"

Nodding, she tilted her head back slightly. "It's relaxing to get a breath of fresh air every once in a while."

"Sora, just get in the car. I'll take you home."

She shook her head. "I'm staying out here."

Sighing, Kyoya motioned to the driver. He got out of the still-moving vehicle, and as soon as he slammed the door it drove off. "I'm not letting you walk alone."

"Kyoya…" she began slowly, about to oppose him.

He tapped her lip impatiently, consequently shutting her up. "It's no use; the car has already driven off. It would be a waste to just call him back. Besides, you live about a mile away from here, correct?"

"Yes."

"At a leisurely pace, that should take us about 20 minutes."

She checked her watch, then looked back up at him. "But you live 5 miles away from my house. You're not going to walk an hour just to get there."

Shrugging, he replied, "Maybe I'll just get some exercise."

Her eyes roaming his body, she assured him, "Believe me, you don't need it." He smirked, raising an eyebrow. She digested what her words may have come across as, and shook her head. "That is_ not_ what I meant!"

"Or is it?" He still had a satisfactory smirk stretched across his face.

"I _just_ meant that you're pretty fit and slim, that's all…"

Kyoya cut her off, walking in front of her. He tilted her chin upward slightly, and she blushed, averting her gaze. "Your eyes are lying," he informed her. She felt heat crawl up to her cheeks, confirming his statement.

"I—I have no idea what you're talking about," she told him, swiping away his hand.

He smirked as she ran on ahead.

She let the scanner read her fingerprint, and it slid open with a thud. Turning to Kyoya, she held out her hand expectantly for her things. "My books, please."

He held it away from her awaiting palm, a ghost of a grin playing on his lips. "Kyoya…" Her tone was heavy with exasperation.

Pressing the items into her palm, he leaned down closer to her ear, whispering, "I'll see you tomorrow then?" His warm breath brushed her skin, and she nodded numbly, and he kissed her cheek swiftly. Before she had time to react, he had already vanished from her property, leaving the presence of the feel of his lips against her cheek tingling on her skin as she disappeared inside.

_**AN: This is an EXTREMELY unedited chapter; I'll probably go back and fix it later. Now, Kyoya (and everyone else) may seem a bit out of character, but I always tend to do that. Later on they'll settle into their character better. So I apologize for that.**_


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